Sitting in one of the tufted leather booths at her family's Original Joe's, Marie Duggan recalls the first time she walked into the restaurant's new North Beach home.

"I just broke down and cried," she admits, her eyes welling up at the memory. "It was so beautiful."

It's the same reaction any mother might have had after witnessing the long-awaited dreams of her offspring come to fruition - children John and Elena had spent nearly two years renovating the new restaurant.

But for this zealous matriarch, her tears revealed more than just pride. They were also tears of remembrance for the long-standing restaurant passed down from her father, which had operated largely unchanged in the Tenderloin until a 2007 fire reduced it to ashes - and tears of relief that so much of its original character was restored in North Beach.

The moment also signaled an end to the heated debate that has kept the Duggan family awash in drama for much of the last decade.

It hasn't been an easy road.

Marie's father, Ante "Tony" Rodin, opened the first Original Joe's on Taylor Street in 1937, serving hearty, oversize portions of Italian American dishes.

Over the years, the neighborhood around it crumbled, becoming better known for crack pipes than popular dining establishments. Yet against all odds, OJ's trudged on, feeding many of the Bay Area's politicians, police and characters of the hood - many of whom paid weekly visits.

"It was people who risked their lives for a cheeseburger," jokes Marie's son and current co-owner John Duggan.

Taking over

In 1983, Marie and her husband, the elder John, bought out Rodin's partners and took over the business. She ran it much the same way as Tony had, preserving the restaurant's character and traditions. It wasn't until John and Elena stepped in to take the reins that talks of opening the restaurant in a new neighborhood began in earnest.

Marie wouldn't hear of it.

"My mom was so committed to staying," says John. "The notion of moving was a taboo topic in our house."

Resigned to their fate, John and Elena worked to bring the restaurant up to date. In the meantime, John went about opening Fish & Farm, another restaurant a few blocks away.

Fire and feuding

Fish & Farm opened on Oct. 11, 2007. The next day, Joe's went up in flames, and the family feud - now about where to reopen instead of where to move the restaurant - began in earnest.

"I'm old-fashioned. I was raised at 144 Taylor," Marie says. "My mom and dad had it before they had me."

Hard as she tried, however, it wasn't easy to bring it back from the ashes. Partnerships to rebuild the space kept falling through, a lawsuit over a similarly named restaurant got ugly, and the insurance settlement wasn't what they had hoped.

"I finally admitted that maybe the time had come to shut it down," Marie says. The next generation, however, didn't want to let go of their grandfather's legacy.

It was ironic, John says, but "I knew it was our one chance to move somewhere new."

John and Elena originally considered Moose's, but worried that they'd have to conform to the existing space (it's now Park Tavern). When the spot that housed Fior d'Italia for 53 years opened up - tenant Joe DiMaggio's had just shuttered - they jumped on it.

"I don't think it would have happened if it wasn't this corner, and this restaurant space," says John.

Marie finally conceded. After years of internal discord, she was spent.

"She said, 'I'll leave you alone, but it has to be perfect,' " Elena says.

Character kept

Elena was responsible for much of the remodel, keeping the character of the Taylor Street location by salvaging the booths, bringing over the stools and installing an exhibition kitchen and counter - the area John feels "makes it Joe's." And a showcase of photos and articles from every decade lines the hallway.

"Our No. 1 goal was for people to walk in and say, 'OK, I get this. This is Joe's,' " says John.

About 10 servers returned after the four-year break, with a total of more than 300 years of experience among them. And the menu, designed to resemble the 1950s version, has been condensed without losing signature dishes like Joe's Special, the hamburger, chicken cacciatore, and liver and onions. Prices have been raised slightly to reflect the times.

So far, the regulars seem delighted.

"I've been going since I was 5," says George Benatatos, a former Alameda County public defender who is now 66.

"I ate here yesterday for the first time, and I'm back today," he says. "It matched all my memories, though I expect the toilets are cleaner."

As John makes the rounds, greeting old friends and charming new neighbors, opening week at 601 Union has Marie happily reeling from what she describes as a "giant love fest."

Were it not for the tenacity of the younger generation, she says Original Joe's would be just a memory swept up in the ashes of Taylor Street.

"My dad would be looking down and saying, 'They do all right,' " she admits, channeling Rodin's thick Croatian accent.